


Check, Please!

by marklesparkle



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (with a twist), Fluff, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, but im too tired to fix it srry!, coffee shop AU, i know its bad, i wrote this in one sitting so, just read until the end dont hate me!!!!, rated for language!!!!, there's a happy ending i swear, this got out of control i only want to write 500 words and yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8454313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marklesparkle/pseuds/marklesparkle
Summary: In which Mark and Jaemin have been dating for two years but aren't yet soulmates and Donghyuck is just the new waiter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i hate soulmate aus i don't know how this happened i'm sorry !!!!!!!!
> 
> update: edited on 11/17/16

Jaemin and Mark met like most modern couples do: with the guidance of the world wide web. It all started with a mutual obsession for science fiction novels and zero people in their non-virtual lives who shared the same interest. Now nearly two years later, they’re a pair of happy nerds who believe themselves lucky to have found one another in a world where soulmates typically seem to find _you_ and not the other way around; usually, people aren’t even aware that they’ve found their soulmate until the incredibly specific phrase etched somewhere on their body is burning and the arbitrary scribble of conversation that’s been inked into their flesh since birth is long gone, replaced with one of two feelings. Some say they experience excruciating pain when they hear “the magic words” while others report feeling euphoria; Mark doesn’t really know what to believe due to his lack of experience but he can only assume that when he finally hears Jaemin say two those words aloud the only thing he’ll be capable of registering is _relief_.

Ninety-nine of the earth’s population is born with what’s commonly known as a soulmate tattoo; the other one percent has no markings, indicating that they don’t have a soulmate. As you age, the tattoo stays perfectly in position, never shrinking or stretching in any way, staying printed on your skin until either the day you die or hear your soulmate says the words aloud, causing the tattoo to instantaneously vanish. The phrase you’re born with can vary from being completely normal like “Is this seat taken?” or as absurd as “To date, I’ve haven’t heard a better version of Hallelujah than the one on the Shrek soundtrack.” It all just depends on who you’re fated to inevitably put up with for the rest of your natural born life.

Mark’s tattoo is considered to be both normal and abnormal. Printed on his upper thigh in neat cobalt letters are the words “Marry me?” which can be interpreted in two very different ways. One: he’s actually being proposed to or two: it’s just a joke. Since the day he met Jaemin in the parking lot of the city’s biggest bookstore, Mark’s been dying to hear him say those two little words to end the endless stream of questions in the back of his head once and for all. Even after just meeting once, the two were sure it was a match made in heaven. If he could, Mark would’ve showed Jaemin his soulmate tattoo the day they decided to become an official couple but there’s very serious rules that prohibit showing your markings prematurely. So, here he is, just waiting for the day Jaemin proposes (which he doesn’t think is any time soon.)

For as long as they’ve been together, Mark hasn’t seen any real problems with his and Jaemin’s relationship; they still hold hands on the train, share dinner after class, laugh at each other’s terrible jokes, and text just as frequently as other couples their age. He still thinks Jaemin has a really pretty eyes and knows for a fact Jaemin still thinks his cheekbones are nice. Nothing’s out of place except for that _one_ thing Jaemin has yet to say. And honestly, really, Mark doesn’t mind because the longer you wait the better and more mature the relationship, right? Plus, he doesn’t doubt his fondness for Na Jaemin one little bit and he’s not going to throw away multiple years of dedication to his boyfriend and best friend just because _Lee Jeno_ thinks Mark’s an idiot for waiting this long for Jaemin because in most cases, soulmates realize their bond within a matter of seconds or at the most a year or two. The hour glass on Mark and Jaemin’s relationship is running out to say in the least and the both of them know it; Mark wants to sob every time Jaemin opens his mouth to say something ridiculous that’s not the phrase temporarily tattooed on the older boy’s upper thigh.

Mark closes his eyes, relaxing into the café chair he’s sitting in. He attempts to divert his thoughts to something more mundane like the weather or when his next batch of math homework is due but to no avail. All he can do is fantasize about Jaemin grinning from ear to ear, leaning in close and whispering those two stupid fucking words he’s been yearning to hear for almost seven-hundred and thirty days. He’s never wanted anything more than he wants to be Jaemin’s; the thought of either of them belonging to someone else after spending so much time together fucking _hurts_. He doesn’t even know what he’d do with his life if Jaemin weren’t in it because before any other title, they’re best friends first and Mark can’t imagine himself watching those terribly corny old Star Trek movies with anyone else.

“Mark? Hello? Are you listening to me?” Jaemin’s voice lulls Mark from his internal struggle, causing him to reluctantly open his tired eyes to focus on the boy with floppy brown hair in front of him.

He coughs awkwardly into his hand before sitting up. “Oh, um, no. Sorry. What were you saying again? I missed it,” he admits, tacking a sheepish apology at the end to hopefully end up in Jaemin’s good graces, which isn’t too entirely difficult.

Jaemin’s eyes are soft as he nods his head in understanding and Mark knows he’s been forgiven right away. “It’s okay, I know you’re tired and it was my idea to come here, anyway. But as I was saying,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. Mark doesn’t have to taste it to know it’s loaded with sugars and crème. “did you finish the lab that’s due tomorrow?” It takes Mark a minute to register what his boyfriend is asking before he shakes his head in the universal sign of no. He fights the urge to roll his eyes because all Jaemin ever wants to talk about these days is school. To be honest, Mark gets enough of that when he’s in class and when he’s asked on a date he doesn’t exactly want to go over the structure of the integumentary system. He’d agreed to meet Jaemin here after class only because he knows that as soon as he steps foot in the dorm, he’s going to want to do nothing but assignments then sleep until noon the next day.

“No, not yet. I was going to do it when I get home,” Mark replies, exhaling deeply. Maybe _this_ is why Jeno’s always calling him a bumbling idiot for fruitlessly waiting around on Jaemin. “Why?”

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly. “Just wondering.” His hands are wrapped adorably into sweater paws that he’s currently using to lazily drag his hot coffee cup across the table. His eyes are trained on the plastic lid now instead of Mark’s face. Today he’s dressed in a dark navy sweater that has to at least be two sizes too large, making him seem even smaller than he actually is. In short, he looks cute. And according to everyone on the planet who’s already met their soulmate, if you’d only describe your other half as “just cute,” there’s something majorly wrong with you (or them).

It’s silent for a moment and not the usual kind the pair are so used to from spending countless hours in each other’s company. The air is different— _stiff_ , and Mark can just about taste the awkwardness of the situation they’re in and how Jaemin had only really asked about Mark’s homework because they have nothing to talk about with each other that doesn’t involve school or mutual friends’ activities or the new book at the comic store. The realization hits Mark like a brick to the chest because _holy shit Jeno was right._ He’s been wasting his life waiting for words that would never leave Jaemin’s lips because he’s not _the one_ and they weren’t meant to be; not all the wishing in the goddamn world could change that.

It feels like there’s a wad of cotton in his mouth, hindering him from saying anything more than, “Oh, okay.” From across the table, Jaemin lifts his gaze from his cup to look back at Mark. The softness that was present earlier still remains, but now it’s starting to fade, replaced with an emotion Mark can’t quite recognize. He wants to grab Jaemin’s hand in an attempt to do _something_ about how they’re both feeling but the opportunity slips from his grip like grains of sand as he notices an unfamiliar figure coming towards his and Jaemin’s table.

Mark’s eyes grow wider as he takes in the beauty that is the boy walking his way. The first thing Mark notices is how flawless his skin is; it looks like this guy’s never had a pimple in his life. On top of that, he also has a deep bronzed complexion that makes Mark want to cry because it’s so fucking stunning and unhidden. He’s sporting a generic café apron but underneath there’s a white sweater with primary colored boxes stacked atop of one another paired with light-wash jeans. His feet are clad in ragged Adidas sneakers and Mark almost doesn’t notice the little flowers on his socks at first glance. _Almost_. Below the café worker’s cap atop his head sits a nest of auburn hair that’s slowly but surely falling more and more into his face as he steps closer, bouncing slightly. His face is schooled into what Mark can only assume to be a façade of calm. There’s a light dust of pink on his cheeks, displaying his apparent embarrassment, and he’s gripping a single drink in his hand. If Mark didn’t know any better, he’d say this inhumanly attractive boy is nervous about delivering said beverage to the couple.

Jaemin doesn’t seem to be near about as entranced with café worker as Mark as he scrolls through Instagram and takes another sip of his sickeningly sweet coffee. He hasn’t even noticed that Mark’s attention has wandered from their pathetic excuse of a conversation and onto another very handsome boy with a smile to rival his own. Said boy is now within a foot’s distance and Mark can feel himself starting to sweat for absolutely no other reason than the fact that he’s forced to come into contact with a good-looking person whose focus is trained specifically on him.

When Mark arrived to the café a few minutes prior, Jaemin was already there and in their usual spot in the back. Normally, Jaemin would’ve ordered for his boyfriend but Mark thought he wasn’t thirsty so he’d texted Jaemin and told him to not worry about getting him anything. The thing about going to a coffee shop, though, is that once you see everyone else around you drinking hot coffee, you suddenly want to, too. So before joining Jaemin, he’d quickly ordered an Americano with the barista he’s seen four out of every five time he comes to this particular shop. The blonde barista’s name is Hansol but he’s also on friendly first-name basis with the rest of the staff, too. Everyone knows Jaemin and Mark because it’s so rare to spot one without the other. Jeno would join them every once in a while, too, but he always complained about being the third wheel so it was more often than not just the other two left to their own devices. Before today, Mark’d never seen the boy carrying his coffee in his entire life; he’s been going to the local university for three years now and every year he comes to this café to study at least once a week so with the help of his inner Nancy Drew, Mark deducts that he must be a new employee.

“Um, are you Mark?” The new employee slash strangely pretty café boy is now standing at their table, making Mark’s stomach twist uncomfortably. Jaemin finally looks up from his phone, pulled out of his reverie by the sound of an unusually high-pitched voice.

Mark gulps. “Yes?” It’s more of a question than an answer and Mark feels like even more of a bumbling idiot because _ohmygod I can’t even confirm that my name is, in fact, Mark Lee in front of his person I literally just laid eyes on for the first time in my entire existence what the actual fuck is wrong with me?_

Café boy grins, revealing a row of pearly whites. The name tag on his apron reads “Donghyuck :)),” Mark notices. _Cute_. “Well are you or are you not the Mark who ordered the Americano?” His tone is playful, all traces of any former shyness leaving him in an instant, replaced with a confidence Mark is terrified to learn he has.

“I am! I mean, _yes_ , I am the Mark who ordered the Americano. Sorry,” he mumbles, diverting his eyes to the table.

Donghyuck chuckles. “Here you go,” he places the coffee directly into Mark’s line of vision. The oldest of the three boys furrows his eyebrows in confusion, looking back up at Donghyuck only to catch a glimpse of the coy quirk to his lips.

“Thanks, uh, Donghyuck, right?” _If there was an award for fumbling over words, I would win first place_ , Mark thinks.

The younger boy nods in confirmation. “Yeah. Oh, and you’re welcome,” he’s grinning again and it’s starting to make Mark anxious again because why is such a pretty boy smiling so much at him? He’s Mark Lee, unofficial king of all things lame and dorky and the literature club at university. The only person who’s ever shown him this much attention in such a short span of time is Jaemin (who’s been carefully observing this interaction the entire time.)

Mark opens his mouth to say something else, but Jaemin cuts him off, looking at Donghyuck with narrowed eyes. “Did Hansol send you over here?”

At Jaemin’s inquiry, Mark raises an eyebrow. Hansol’s not known to be a real prankster or the officiator of any tricks, but he is pretty good friends with Doyoung who is in turn friends with the oh-so infamous Jeno, so anything’s possible; Jaemin’s right to be suspicious. The real question Mark wants the answer to is _why_ Hansol would send Donghyuck to give Mark his order when the more experienced barista could just do it himself. The only explanation that makes sense would be that he’s too lazy to actually walk across the café, but that idea doesn’t make sense, either, because Hansol hates making drinks and finds any excuse to leave his station, especially if it’s to talk to people he knows like Mark and Jaemin.

Donghyuck’s back to blushing again; the tips of his ears that are visible through his cap and hair are a bright red. He nods at Jaemin, biting his lip nervously. “Yeah, he did. I’m the new guy so I expected to be doing some grunt work but Hansol is being super annoying about it,” he huffs, patting his cheeks to more than likely try and erase the heat blossoming on them.

Jaemin laughs, now nodding his head and in the process shaking his long hair all over the place. “Ah, I get it now. Wait—I don’t understand why is our table is so much trouble for boss man, though? If anything, we’re a piece of cake for a bum like Hansol.”

“I know! He’s usually excited to see us so he can pretend to work and just talk to us for a half hour,” Mark adds, snorting.

Donghyuck rubs the back of his neck, becoming sheepish once again. “Ah, you’re right, you guys are easy customers. Hansol’s just in a bad mood again, I guess,” he laughs, focusing back on Mark. “He actually dared me to say something super embarrassing to you with the excuse of it being some sort of initiation to the job, but I honestly don’t have the balls to say it out loud.”

Jaemin boos while Mark gulps. “Aw, c’mon, it can’t be that bad; now that you’ve told us about it you can’t just leave us hanging!” Jaemin reasons, suddenly smiling like he and Donghyuck have been friends for years and that he wasn’t just cutting his eyes at the newest café worker a literal minute ago. The expression on Donghyuck’s face is one of pure panic and Mark kind of feels bad for him because now Hansol _and_ Jaemin are jumping down his throat about some stupid shit he clearly doesn’t want to do, but at the same time there’s a part of him that wants to know why someone as handsome and as confident as Donghyuck is so worked up over some light-hearted employee hazing that involves an actual loser like himself.

Before Mark can actually decide if he wants to put his two cents in, Donghyuck speaks up. “I guess you’re right, it’s my fault for even bringing it up and if it were me, I wouldn’t want to be left hanging either, so I’ll just suck it up and get it over with so we can all collectively move on from this public embarrassment that Hansol said he makes all newbies go through.”

“Don’t listen to Jaemin— really, you don’t have to say it. If Hansol asks, we’ll tell him you did whatever it is he’s daring you to do because we just met and I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are because that’s Hansol’s literal job so-”

Mark’s mumbling is cut off by Donghyuck for a second time but now the latter is smiling brightly. “No, it’s alright, I think I actually kind of want to do this now? It’s just for fun, anyway.” Somehow Mark isn’t comforted by this but nods nonetheless because he’s not Donghyuck’s mom and if he wants to play Hansol’s unnecessary games, then he doesn’t have any real authority to try and stop him.

Donghyuck takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, then reopening them only to look fixedly on Mark. “Promise not to laugh?”

Jaemin snorts. “Yes, we promise. Right, Mark?” Under the table Mark feels a light tap on his ankle. He jolts then nods furiously, trying to not blush as hard as Donghyuck is currently.

“Alright, here it goes,” another exhale. “Marry me?” Without warning, the skin on Mark’s thigh starts burning and _holy fucking shit this is actually happening right now._

“ _Excuse me_?” he cries out, clamping a hand over the clothed area he knows the soulmate tattoo used to lie under but is now most definitely gone because this strange new café employee he met ten fucking minutes ago just said the words he’s been wanting his actual boyfriend to say for two years and said boyfriend is sitting right across from him watching him become bonded to a complete stranger and this shit would only ever happen to Mark Lee, _goddamnit_.

His face must’ve expressed his agony because Jaemin’s talking again, sounding worried. “Are you alright? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” The genuine concern in his tone makes Mark want to cry even more but he can’t right now because he’s in the middle of a fucking café and no one knows that he just unofficially ended a two-year relationship in the matter of two seconds. Donghyuck is silent but his eyes are wide and when they make eye contact, Mark can _feel_ a weight being lifted from his heart as Donghyuck slowly smiles. As soon as the burning had come, it’s gone, leaving Mark with nothing more than the knowledge that Donghyuck is _his_.

“Jaemin,” he starts, but then stops short when he sees the emotion etched on his boyfriend’s face. Instead of the tears Mark feels and honestly expects, Jaemin’s beaming. Like really fucking beaming— teeth and eye-smile and all. The youngest boy reaches across the table, grabbing Mark’s hand and clasping it tightly in his own.

“It’s okay, Mark. I’m fine, I swear,” he promises, giving Mark’s hand one last squeeze. “I think I’ve known this would happen for a while,” Jaemin continues. His smile fades for a second. “I’m not going to sit here and lie and say I’m not hurt at all, because trust me- I am- but it doesn’t matter right now because I _know_ this isn’t going to change our friendship.”

Mark manages a weak smile, despite the tornado of feelings swirling in his belly. He isn’t sure whether he wants to sob or vomit or pass out or hug the life out of Jaemin or cling to Donghyuck like a baby koala bear. Instead he settles for squeezing Jaemin’s hand back. “We’ll always be friends, Nana. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily.” Jaemin laughs and so does Donghyuck, who’s still standing awkwardly by the table, shuffling on his feet. Mark pats the vinyl booth chair beside him, beckoning him to sit down. Donghyuck obliges, settling in close enough to Mark so that their knees brush under the table.

“I know,” Jaemin releases Mark’s hand and downs the last of his coffee. “While this has been fun, I think that’s my cue to leave.” He flashes one last smile then picks up his backpack, standing up. “Call me later when you get home, okay? I’m going to find Jeno but I’ll still be listening for your ring.”

Mark nods, smirking. “A lot of things are starting to make sense,” he giggles, waggling his eyebrows. “Okay, okay. I promise I’ll call the minute I walk through the door— scouts honor.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “I’m holding you to it, Mark Lee.” He points his finger at Mark, narrowing his eyes for a second time that afternoon. “Oh, and nice to meet you, Donghyuck. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on, I assume. See you later!” With that, he walks towards the café exit, grinning and waving as he leaves out of the side door and into the streets. He’s out of sight before Mark can blink properly.

“And then there were two,” Donghyuck whispers, leaning back in the booth seat. Underneath the table, Mark grabs his hand, interlacing their fingers.

Neither of them speak again for a while. After seven solid minutes of silence, Mark can’t take it anymore. “Do you really have ‘excuse me?’ tattooed on you?”

Donghyuck snorts, crinkling his nose. “Well, I _did_. I don’t think I do anymore, though.” He turns his head to look at Mark. “Did you really have ‘marry me?’ tattooed on you?”

“You really think I made that shit up?” Mark deadpans.

“No,” Donghyuck manages out around a choked laugh. He brings his free hand from his lap to his hair, raking through it slowly, placing his cap on the table. “I’m probably going to get in so much trouble for being here for as long as I have but I think Hansol owes me this much, don’t you think?”

Mark moves a stray hair from Donghyuck’s forehead, flicking it back into his hairline. “I actually think _we_ owe _him,_ if anything.”

Donghyuck guffaws, surprised at the honesty. “Fair enough,” he mumbles, hooking his ankle with Mark’s under the table. He turns his head away, resting his eyes again. “So, you wanna get ice cream after my shift?”

“Sure.”

“Great. My name's Lee Donghyuck, by the way." Mark elbows him in the ribs, rolling his eyes.

Donghyuck elbows him back, smiling impishly. "Lee Minhyung, but you can call me Mark."

"Okay, Mark."

"Alright, Donghyuck."

Identical grins light up both their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a tumblr post that i saw a few days ago and absolutely loved so i had to write something for it even if soulmates are my least favorite trope :^)
> 
> thank u for reading nd forgiving my terrible mistakes/writing!!
> 
> twt + curious cat: @m4rk1ee


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